God Save McQueen
by rweasleys
Summary: 3 years is never too long. Polished by the land of Jane Austen and Princess Diana, Massie Block returns home. With unexpected encounters and her Alpha power being expired, Massie's ready to redeem herself.
1. prologue

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**D BUILDING, ROOM 226**  
_9:26 AM_  
_February 10th_

Claire could not sit still in Spanish class, she tried to mouth along with Mrs. Kolek, but things just weren't working out. She felt like a balloon ready to explode and she shook her leg out of pure excitement. She tucked a platinum lock of hair behind her ear, a diamond stud revealing itself, it's light brighter than the fluorescents in the ceiling. Her desk partner, who was intently taking notes, kept shooting her dirty looks every time she shook. She mouthed a 'sorry' and then smiled to herself, like a little kid who had just cut the cheese and couldn't help but feel relieved.

She felt a soft thud of something hit the back of her head and slide down her chair. With expert skills she led a jittery, thin hand, and slipped it behind her, her fingers dragging along the jagged paper.

**why do you keep moving around? cant see an effing thing with your big head in the way.**

**-d**

Claire rolled her soft cornflower blue eyes and took out her pen to jot down a response.

"Ms. Lyons, are you in need of the restroom ?" Mrs. K asked, Claire shook her head and snapped a piece of gum, deflecting detention hadn't exactly been on her inventory for that day, but it easily filled in redoing her makeup at break. No gum in class really meant no gum in class.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE PERFORMING ARTS BUILDING, ROOM 43**  
_10:19 AM _  
_February 10th_

1, 2, 3, 4.

Alicia set a foot out and shifted all her weight to it, spinning herself in several circles, adrenaline pumping through her. She lifted her leg up with her carefully and then stopped five spins after everyone else. She gave herself a silent applaud and grinned from ear to ear at her accomplishment.

The day had gone without a hitch so far, she had woken up not feeling the least bit tired and the sun was owning the sky- as if it were Angelina at a red carpet premiere. The weather easily allowing her to wear her cute wedge platform boots and a loose off the shoulder A+O shirt with an adorable pair of jeggings. After getting an A+ on her math test from last week, switching seats away from that weird snotty kid in English and snagging the last Caesar salad at The Bar, dance was the highlight.

"Okay girls, you can go change, but don't forget the cut list for Marvels is up on the bulletin !" Ms. Smith, the Varsity dance team coach stated. Marvels was the school's elite co-ed dance team, but only six lucky girls and guys got in.

Alicia's bun undid itself as she speed walked her way to the bulletin; her heart did fifty pirouettes when seeing her name on the list.

She just knew today was going to be a good day.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER, NY**  
**THE MARVIL HOUSE**  
_10:46 AM_  
_February 10th_

"AND THAT'S A WRAP!" Dylan sighed, taking a deep breath and heading over to her director style chair, her name embossed on the front. She sat down and swung a perfectly shea buttered leg across her thin thigh, an assistant handing her a bottle of Smart Water that she quickly uncapped and downed.

She'd just gotten into two fights with her sisters, broken up with her boyfriend and was planning for her Sweet Sixteenth. Of course though, half of it wasn't even real, but being one of the stars of Marvilous Marvils, it called for all the drama, and today she was on a roll.

"Hot job sis." Ryan winked, hiking herself up onto the seat beside Dylan, popping a piece of a Luna Bar into her mouth. Dylan clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and wagged a finger at her older sister, shaking her head.

"Come on, lighten up. It's _just _a Luna Bar." Ryan rolled her eyes, licking her fingers, Dylan cringed.

"Can we get some hand sanitizer here, ay-sap?" Dylan called, pointing an acrylic nail in her sister's direction.

"Oh god, we should just call you the Carb Critic." Jaime stated, walking by with a stylist following her two inch heels as they clacked against the Italian marble, Merri-Lee was getting a touch up on her make-up on the other side of the living room.

"Break's over everyone!" Someone called, cupping their mouth and Dylan happily hopped off her chair, her toned body sauntering over to where they were to gather. Dylan smiled to herself, she was more than marvelous, she was Dylan.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER, NY**  
**CLUB SOCCER HQ, UPPER PLAYING FIELD**  
_3:32 PM_  
_February 10th_

_Thwack, thwack, thwack._

A drop of sweat slipped down Kristen's nose as she dribbled a black and white blur between her feet. She licked her lips, eyes steadying, arms out just a little on either side of her, crouched just a bit as the tip of her PUMA clad foot touched the ball before her and in one swift motion the ball went soaring straight out, swooshing as it was caught my the white net.

Cheers sounded out around her and she grinned, pumping a fist in the air, her tighter than tight ponytail swinging behind her in a little victory dance of it's own.

'You did it's' and 'Awesome job's !' and 'Fantastic aim's' were all drowned out in the excitement as her teammates tackled her into an embrace. She laughed out of pure enjoyment, her heart fluttering and her stomach loosening. She couldn't help but beam under the ten other sweat caked girls. These girls were more than just her soccer teammates, they were her sisters- her Soccer Sisters.

* * *

**VIRGIN ATLANTIC FLIGHT 419**  
**SOMEWHERE ABOVE NEW YORK CITY**  
_7:14 AM_  
_February 11th_

Massie stared out the window of the Boeing plane. The now warm base of her first class seat was feeling claustrophobic and she was just itching to jump out. Brushing a chestnut strand of wavy hair away from her face, her amber eyes sparkled with the now rising sun outside her window.

Her long, pale, piano fingers curled around a tall glass filled with sparkling pomegranate juice, she tightened and un-tightened her hold. Her glittering OPI smothered nails glinted from the reflection of the thick glass and, without really thinking, had began snapping her Manolo wedges against the bottom of her pink feet.

Massie bit her lip, her best feature some would consider, and the tangy taste of Mango Smoothie Glossip Girl filled her mouth, sending a rush of sugar through her body. Before it even being announced, Massie began pushing all her high fashion magazines together in a pile, not even bothering to categorize them. She turned off the episode ''The Treasure of Serena Madre" of Gossip Girl, rolled up her headphones and carefully slipped her long glass into one hand, stowing away the tray and turning the lock with a well manicured hand.

Massie took a deep breath, her doe eyes once again darting to the window as she gathered her long shining hair onto one side. The sun had now reached it's maximum height for the bright morning, the height of the Empire State building that was sparkling in the early morning sun.

"We will be beginning our descent into New York City, turn to Channel five for a few facts on the City That Never Sleeps." Someone called over the PA, the attention of 246 passengers all captured.

Welcome home Massie Block.

* * *

_short much ? okay so like this contains a TON of spoilers for A Tale of Two Pretties. not sure if it's going to be a multi-chapter fic yet, but i plan on it, i'm putting off posting the next chapter for the people we meet in high school because i need some time to decide if what i've written is the way i want it. the burst of energy ATTP* gave me has sent me on this fan fic spree reminding me why i actually wrote on here, because i utterly and completely enjoy The Clique and my oh my, that ending was unexpected. so yeah btw they're all sophomores in this (;_

_*isn't it funny that ATTP gave me energy ? like how ATP gives off energy ? ahahaha, okay bio pun, sorry about that. _

_xoxo, _

_-alyssa. _


	2. newgirlintown

**JOHN F. KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT**  
**IMMIGRATION&BAGGAGE CLAIM**  
_9:29 AM_  
_February 11th _

Massie stood at the baggage claim with an agitated look plastered on her face while she waited for one of the airport attendants to finish loading her luggage onto her cart. After what seemed like twenty years the attendant nodded and Massie took lead towards Immigration.

With utmost pride, she walked towards the American Citizen line, people's eyes trailing after her. Massie plucked her passport from her purse and held it out to the lady in front of her. The woman scanned the passport and stamped it, processing Massie's arrival in the computer as if to make it formal.

"Welcome home." She said, smiling, something Massie remembered Immigration workers to always say after international flights, but for some reason this time it made her feel like she was on top of the world.

"This way." Massie commanded and the cart was tugged all the way to the front of JFK, to the arrivals area. It was like emerging from a pit and when you got to the top there were people on either side holding signs that read cute little greetings, flowers and balloons. Massie spotted her target who was holding a huge orange neon sign that read 'WELCOME HOME MASLYN BLOCK.' Massie smirked and walked towards it.

* * *

**THE ABELEY ESTATE**  
**LAYNE'S BEDROOM**  
_ 4:43 PM_  
_February 11th _

Claire tilted her head to the side, running her thin fingers through her stick straight blonde hair that she was carefully rolling up onto a curling wand and releasing.

"You are so doing that wrong." Layne muttered from her perch on her waterbed, a TeenVogue open in front of her.

"Am not." Claire responded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Layne stuffed her hand into a bowl of kettle corn, picking out only two pieces.

"What are you getting ready for anyway?" She turned her upper body so that she was facing Claire, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised up. "Did Derrick finally ask you out?" Claire groaned and shook her hair as it fell into place. Claire fanned her face, was her facial expression giving anything away? Gawd, where was a stick of deodorant when she needed it?

"What even gives you the idea that he will?" She asked, picking up Layne's Bobbi Brown hairspray and lightly dusting it over her locks. She looked away from Layne so that she wouldn't look hopeful.

"You really are such a blonde." Layne joked, digging into the kettle corn again. "Have you read some of these trauma-ramas in Seventeen's new issue?" She asked, covering her mouth, something she picked up only around two years ago. She flailed the new magazine in Claire's face, her reflection in the mirror clear enough for Claire to see the blurry vision of a glossy cover being shook around.

Claire shook her hair, dabbing some hair serum on the ends of it, Layne rolled over and got up, walking up to Claire and standing next to her in the full length mirror. Layne shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pouting and making her hair messy and then continued on to pick her nonexistent sides.

"Where are _you_ going?" Claire asked, turning the tables on her friend. Layne's doe, brown eyes sparkled in the mirror, as she pushed her hair all onto one side of her head in a beach-wave kind of style.

"On a date with Griffin," She smiled and Claire raised her eyebrows.

"Just two days ago you were complaining that he was annoying because you thought he's a wannabe punk."

"Keyword,_ thought_." Layne responded. "And stop trying to change the subject, what are you getting ready for?" Claire studied Layne in the mirror, she looked clean and proper and prim, with her black hair hanging in straight locks and her body as slim and toned as a girl would want. Somewhere behind all the glitz and glamor Layne was now living in, there was Layme, the girl that Claire had become friends with, the girl who had a new food obsession every month and Claire stayed friends with Layne 2.0 because on some ocassions she shed light to the old Layne before power and money got to her head.

"You changed the subject by asking me if I read the new Seventeen." Claire shot back, Layne shrugged it off and made her way back to her bed.

"Still not answering."

Claire twisted one of the diamond studs in her ear and smiled, "My parents have a surprise for me so we're having like this special family dinner."

"Maybe it's the new Balenciaga bag." Layne replied, kicking her legs in the air, Claire turned around to face her, hands on her hips.

"Maybe it's a restraining order against you and your stupidity." Layne tossed a pillow and hit Claire square in the face.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER, NY**  
**THE LYON HOUSE**  
_5:11 PM_  
_February 11th_

"Claire, honey?" Judi Lyons asked, opening the french door that led to their house, Claire scrunched her eyebrows together; her mother looked a lot more put together and a lot less rushed.

"Hey mom," She smiled and Claire stepped into the living room to her house, the lighting dim as the TV flickered in the family room. Her heels hit the cherry wood immediately, she saw her mother frown, ready to complain about it denting the wood, but she suppressed it. Claire was freaked out, what was making her mom this…calm? There was an odd smell wafting in from the dining room, it smelt rancid and old, like one of the lunch ladies at WTH.

"What died in here?" Claire asked, pinching her nose.

"Excuse me?" Her mother asked, blinking in confusion.

"What_ is_ that smell?" Claire prodded, it was like walking into the boy's locker room, or worse, Todd's bedroom on scary movie night with Not So Tiny Nathan.

"Smell?" Judi whiffed the air and then smiled brightly, pushing a curl behind her ear. "Oh! I made meatloaf, I remember you kids used to love that stuff."

Claire tried her best to conceal her disappointment for the night's catering, or lack of it. When had she even hinted that she liked her mom's meatloaf? All she ever remembered was her and Todd spitting it out into napkins just to spare their mother's feelings. That and her mom only making it twice in her life, once when her grandmother died and two when she announced their move to Westchester from Kissimmee.

Claire sat down at her seat in the dining room; her mother set the hot pan of meatloaf down and poured some juice in everyone's glasses.

"Meatloaf? What, are you trying to kill me?" Todd asked skeptically, Jay shot his son an amused look and Judi sat down, trying and failing at being graceful as she took the seat that had once belonged to Kendra Block. After their move to England, the Block's had donated their dark, rich furniture to the Lyonses, or at least whatever could fit in their home.

"So, I have an announcement." Judi said with an enlightened expression on her face. Claire was just itching to know, her mother had dragged out the wait for too long.

"Just say it." Todd said, as his mother opened her mouth most likely to start getting off topic or somehow bring morals into her story. Claire gave her brother a thankful look as he messed up his red hair and leaned back in his chair, bored already.

Judi rolled her eyes jokingly, adding in a ton of emphasis, her old painfully annoying ways still intact in one way or another. Judi opened her mouth again to speak but was again cut off.

"Before you start…is it just me or is my chin starting to sprout some?" Todd asked, scratching his nonexistent chin hair. Claire giggled into her palm.

"As I was saying," Judi pressed, Claire just looked up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Your father got another promotion." She clapped her hands together and her smile lined eyes crinkled together, Claire wouldn't have been surprised if two new lines appeared.

"YES!" Todd yelled, leaping from his chair, "Now I don't feel guilty about buying that shitload of crap from Amazon!"

Jay laughed and then stopped, staring at his son, "You what?"

Claire didn't know what to think, her head was reeling and her insides were squirming with discomfort. She loved having money, no lie. She was now able to have a larger budget and ocassionally receive diamonds from Tiffany's as presents. Claire could now even go to the mall whenever she wanted and she didn't have to worry about getting her parents angry with her if she brought home a designer skirt- that was the problem.

Claire knew how money could change a person, or a family. In other words, the Abeleys, yes they'd always been somewhat loaded and ranked as a higher middle class family, with Jaguars and Beemers, and country club memberships. Since they hit the jackpot three years ago Layne was now dawning designer everything, Chris was attending Columbia with no support, Mr. Abeley was driving Porsches and Mrs. Abeley was throwing soirees every chance she got. The Abeley's had become the ultimate socialites, forget the Harringtons or the Riveras, even the Hamiltons, they had gone the whole way. They had become the unattainable, the new and improved Blocks.

* * *

**THE RIVERA ESTATE**  
**THE DEN**  
_6:53 PM _  
_February 11th_

Alicia sat in front of her laptop, her fingers hovering over the keys, Dear John playing lightly in the background, a crying Olivia shaking next to her. She had her UGG clad feet stuck out straight in front of her, her butt situated on her black, soft leather couch.

"Why does she have to marry someone else?" Olivia asked, sniffling. Alicia sighed, it was hard enough to explain to Olivia that it was just a movie, let alone tell her that it didn't matter.

"Because, she has to so she can take care of that kid." Alicia explained as if she was explaining to a two year old.

"Yeah but John is hot, and the old dude is…old," Olivia responded, pulling a tissue from a polka dotted box and wiped her eyes. Alicia went back to staring at her computer.

"What are you doing?" Alicia shrugged.

"I'm thinking of what to write in my blog today, there's nothing good to write about…" She tapped her finger to her tan chin.

"What about Danny and I, we got back together." Olivia smiled and Alicia scowled.

"God Faux-livia, everyone knows about that, and truthfully, no one cares." Olivia pouted and Alicia looked away again as her blonde friend returned to watching Channing Tatum strut around her plasma screen. She bit her lower lip and tilted her head, her hair cascading down her shoulder as her phone buzzed faintly under a heap of blankets.

"Your phone is buzzing." Olivia stated, as if Alicia had selective hearing and could only hear her ditzy friend talk and not her phone.

"Thanks for stating the obvious." Olivia smiled, the comment not affecting her the least bit (or maybe she just didn't get it). Alicia slid her hand under the blankets and moved her fingers around until she felt the cold outline of her iPhone. **Hermia **flitted across the screen. Alicia's forehead scrunched together, she thought she'd had her dad's assistant cancel her Hermia subscription three months ago when Hermia had predicted the end of her relationship with that ADD guy. Alicia set her laptop on one knee, she let go and watched it teeter until it settled, like one of the little kids at BADS who was just getting used to their pointe shoes.

"Who is it?" Olivia asked mindlessly, Alicia shrugged and let her fingers fly across her touch screen as she unlocked it.

_The stars have aligned today and you'll be set with new challenges. Do not be afraid, embrace them and be ready to step up rather than step out of the way. Your usefulness and wit will once again be handy. _

"What the eff?" Alicia deleted the text message and leaned back against her cream colored wall while watching Channing Tatum take his shirt off for the millionth time that night, honestly who did he think he was, Jacob Black? Not that Alicia minded, Channing abs were a great start to her weekend.

* * *

**THE HARRINGTON ESTATE**  
**THE GAME ROOM**  
_7:02 PM_  
_February 11th_

On most Friday nights, Dylan would be attending some hot Hollywood party in the city, but tonight she had her legs up on a coffee table with a controller in hand, her hair up in a bun and her eyes squinted at the huge screen in front of her. Dylan yanked at her Juicy hoodie sleeve and leaned forward, ready to attack.

"Dude, what the fuck was that!" Kemp Hurley yelled at Derrick Harrington who had just shot down his player.

"_That _was me whopping your ass." Derrick replied, Cam Fisher laughed, him and Josh Hotz fighting over the possession of a popcorn bowl. Chris Plovert and Dylan attacked Derrick's player on screen, waiting before battling it out between the two.

"Guys, shit I forgot, I need to go to the mall." Josh said, shooting up and running a hand through his hair.

"You did not just say that." Chris stated, Kemp shook his curly hair and rolled his eyes behind his thick glasses that were glinting with the game on screen.

"You're such a priss man." Derrick replied, eyes still glued to the screen, Dylan laughed loudly.

"What? I ran out of cologne." Josh shot back, his tan face flustered.

"Are you sure it's not perfume?" Cam mocked in a girly voice, Josh punched Cam's shoulder.

"It's not funny!" Dylan continued to laugh in her seat.

"Even Marvil thinks it's funny." Kemp pointed in Dylan's direction and Josh narrowed his eyes.

"Well excuse me for not wanting to smell like a pile of crap." Josh defended, and walked up the steps of the game-room of the Harrington estate and into one of it's endless hallways.

Dlyan sunk into the leather sofa, the cold leather had warmed up to her in that comfy way and she yawned, this was the life, who needed a group of bossy girls gossiping. Nowadays people only used her for her fame and the producers of Marvilous Marvils had long ago stopped pestering the guys with their cameras, finding their crude ways a little too crude even for reality television. That plus Derrick's mother never let the crew past the door since it messed up the 'zen' of their estate.

"HOLY EFF, HOLY SHIT EFF!" Josh came bolting through the double white doors yelling at the top of his lungs like he'd just seen the ghost of Christmas past or Jessica Simpson in her heftier days.

"What they ran out of your man perfume?" Chris asked, lacing his fingers behind his head, Dylan giggled at Josh's POed expression. Derrick and Cam snickered, high-fiving Chris.

"No." Josh deadpanned and then turned to everyone else. "The Block estate is being occupied."

"What?" Dylan asked, her throat itching. There had only ever been one tenant after the Block's moved out of their home, but that person had only rented it temporarily. The Block's had tons of offers to buy their one in a million abode, but they refused to sell it and in the end it had just stayed empty and unused except for a few staffers who cleaned and kept the place up to date. If someone was moving in that meant letting go of the Blocks from Westchester for good. Dylan always felt that as long as the Block's owned the property then someday they might come back, but so far it didn't seem like it and now if someone was going to live there, then Dylan would have to let go of her childhood for good. Now she knew what it felt like to be alive back during the American Revolution, with Britain taking all the good stuff.

"Is it a hot girl?" Derrick and Kemp asked in unison.

"How am I supposed to know, I just walked out and there was a limo parked out front and there were lights on- fucking lights on." Dylan looked to Derrick who looked confused.

"There wasn't a sold sign or for sale sign out...not that I pay attention." He replied, Cam rolled his eyes.

"But it was freaky shit man, the light was-"

"On, yeah dumbass we heard you." Kemp said, throwing a handful of popcorn at Josh's face, who scowled and muttered something about not being appreciated.

"Josh?" Dylan said, finally regaining her voice, he looked to her to continue. "The Westchester closes in about twenty minutes." He dashed out the door yelling more 'shits'.

* * *

**THE MONTADOR**  
**THE TATE APARTMENT**  
_7:08 PM  
__February 11th _

Kristen shifted awkwardly in her seat, her father sat straight in front of her and his girlfriend sat beside him. The only sound that filled the room was the clinking of Tiffany&Co. knives and forks against porcelain plates. Kristen stabbed her salad, she had gone vegetarian a few months back and refused to eat the steak that her father was now happily chewing as if it were the new 5 Gum. Kristen played with the hem of her Alice+Olivia top, her blue eyes darting everywhere but her father's face.

"So, Krissy, your father tells me that you're quite the soccer star." Melinda, or Melina or whatever it was said, her voice soft and slightly cooing in a disturbing manner.

"I guess," Kristen responded, shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly as she scrutinized the woman's face. She had bleach blonde hair and pale skin with these creepy green eyes and a smile that seemed permanently plastered to her face, all in all she looked like a hooker.

"I used to play soccer too you know." She continued, obviously not taking Kristen's hint to shut up. She leaned forward, her low red dress touching the fabric of the table, as if she were telling an extremely exciting story or an Access Hollywood worthy rumor.

"It's true, she was telling me this the other day." Adam Tate, aka Kristen's father said, as if he just had to confirm it because it was so unbelievably amazing. Kristen tried her best not to upchuck her croutons on the two adults at the table.

"Really?" She said unceremoniously.

"Yeah, I played on AYSO." The lady smiled and Kristen took a deep breath, trying her best not to laugh. How could this woman even compare AYSO to the Soccer Sisters? That was like comparing Blair Waldorf to Snooki. Kristen opened and closed her mouth right as her phone started to buzz, she would have blushed under her father's stern gaze, but in this case he should have been blushing for even bringing a wacko like this woman to the table.

"One second." Kristen said, getting up and opening her phone as she walked out of the dining room.

It was a text from Andrea, a fellow soccer sister, asking if she'd be able to come over for a movie night with the rest of the girls. Kristen thanked Gawd that she finally had a way to get out of this awkward times ten dinner.

"Dad," Kristen said walking in, a 'sad' expression her face. "I have a game tomorrow morning and I _hate_ to leave but I need to catch some Z's."

Her dad nodded, looking relieved at the change of plans and Kristen grabbed her bag, "Do you need a ride?" He asked, but his stature showed that he didn't exactly plan on getting up and was hoping for a no.

"No thanks, I can walk." While in a more bitter mood Kristen would have said yes just to piss her dad off, she decided it was better to just let him and his 'friend' be. "Nice meeting you Melaney." Kristen said walking out again.

"It's Melinda."

"Doolittle?" Kristen called from the front door, she heard her dad sigh and smiled triumphantly as she clicked the door shut behind her, today was looking up.

* * *

title: hairspray.  
_erm...so i haven't updated this in a few weeks & i was inspired to do so & i plan on doing it every sunday or saturday (: i hope i'm keeping with the characters original personalities yet showing how they've changed over the years. about kristen's dad, i noticed he was never really mentioned and i assumed her parents are divorced...if not, well they are in this ! & you guys will know why he's back at the montador & why layne is 'cool' now too (=_

_on another note, don't you guys just love when you come home from an international flight & you go to immigration to the american citizen line & they're like 'welcome home' ? (: idk why but i like it ! __anywhooos, comment on what couples you would like ! crack is accepted ! oh & i sort of re wrote the first chapter. _

_-alyssaaaaa. _


	3. janedoe

**THE BLOCK ESTATE**  
**MASSIE'S BEDROOM**  
_February 12th _  
_10:20 AM _

Massie eyed her mannequin with distaste, her head tilted to the side. Her chestnut waves practically glistened in the light from the bay windows of her room and she had her head turned so that every time she'd dart her eyes to the mirror, she'd catch her left side- her personal favorite.

"Ehmagawd Bean, this looks like shit." Massie stated, folding her Tiffany&Co. bracelet clad arms over her chest, amber eyes directed to her ah-dorable no longer puppy. Bean looked up and whimpered, Massie sighed and took a seat beside her on top of a Versace dress and a Ralph Lauren blazer, both which were covered by a pleated Chanel skirt. "I know." She muttered, petting her puppy and glaring at the life sized Massiequin as if it were it's fault that Massie was out of inspiration.

Massie's inside felt like it was taking a dip on Six Flag's X, or worse, Goliath. The intense feeling of falling any minute filled her stomach and she felt like she was free-falling at a hundred miles per minute. She'd probably be out of her Secret deodorant in a matter of hours if she continued sweating her pores out like this, school was literally in two days and she had absolutely no plan of action. Being in England had left Massie proper, with a half-way accent and a lot of boring drama-less high school days. Massie looked at the mess around her, the smell of Chanel 19 wafting through her nostrils as the only calming thing in the room. Designer and Couture dresses, shirts, jeans, blazers, cardigans, shorts, capes, and vests all littered her floor. Louis Vuitton suitcases were packed in the corner filled with her shoes and another few at the door that contained her purses and bags, a ton more were still sitting downstairs in her living room. Massie's eyes blazed in alarm as she shot her eyes to the window, it was _sunny_.

_Ehma eff. _

Before leaving to England Massie had made sure that she would be fully adapted to her new setting. She watched hours of _Skins_ in trade of _Gossip Girl_, trained herself to drink tea instead of coffee and had revamped her wardrobe, meaning everything was lined with fur (faux of course, who'd want PETA throwing red paint at you? That was so Art Class, seventh grade). Her thin sweaters and cardigans had been replaced with capes and heavy coats, Blair Waldorf had become her new style icon along with adding just the right amount of Serena to keep her normal electric style. Now as Massie looked around her, she regretted her choice in changing her wardrobe, even though those clothes were more than just out of date.

Massie shot up and threw clothes off her Queen sized bed in search of her phone, as soon as her eyes landed on the edge of her iPhone, she grabbed at it and dialed speed dial number 3.

"Isaac? It's Massie, I need to go to The Westchester."

* * *

**THE WESTCHESTER**  
**PINKBERRY**  
_ February 12th_  
_11:50 AM _

Claire watched mesmerized as Layne swirled the tip of her blood red mango yogurt with the tip of her spoon over and over again. Her wrists ached from the weight of shopping bags and she felt more worn out than one of her old pairs of Keds.

"You haven't touched your yogurt." Layne stated, looking at the chocolate yogurt topped with Fruity Pebbles, sour gummy worms, gummy bears, Cap n' Crunch and kiwis. Claire shrugged her shoulders and reached forward with her plastic spoon, touching it to the melted tip of her fro-yo, as Massie Block once called it. "Are you okay?" Layne asked, leaning forward a little bit. Claire rubbed her tired eyes and yawned.

"It's noon and I've already worn myself out with shopping." Claire replied, the bangles on her wrists falling backward as she picked up her cup.

"We still haven't gone to Bloomingdales yet and Saks." Layne said, checking the list of must hit stores on her Droid notepad.

"Ugh," Claire said, slumping in her chair. "Let's just go tomorrow, yah?" She piped happily, Layne shot her a _you're-freaking kidding-me-right?_ look and Claire strained to not roll her cornflower blue eyes. Claire looked up at the entrance to Pinkberry and out at the rest of the packed mall, Layne followed her gaze and they sat there analyzing the people walking in and out. A couple of rowdy boys and a redhead could be seen on the other side of the mall and as they got closer Claire recognized them.

"Ohhh," Layne teased, "It's Derrypoo." Claire turned bright red, the color of her mom's Target lipstick she used to wear when going to the country club as a guest. Her eyes drifted to the pebbled floor and she stayed counting the rocks under her chair until her eyes landed on a pair of customized Nike Dunks. She glanced up and her stomach did a three-sixty like Dune Baxter at the skate park during the summer.

"Hey Lyons." Derrick said waving while Cam gave her a weak smile, it was his shoes that she'd been staring at after all. Dylan was standing behind the two boys, and shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, she was wearing a pair of Ray Bans and True Religion short shorts and a Yankees cap (Josh's Claire assumed) with a J Crew hoodie to top it all off; from the looks of it she was trying not to attract attention.

"Hi guys!" Layne said, scooting over in her seat at the booth her and Claire had been sitting at to make room for more. The bottom of Claire's feet tingled as she scooted over, Josh across from her, Derrick diagonal from her and the Drakkar Noir scented Cam squished right beside her, all three boys who she was or used to have feelings for were sitting within two inches of her.

"I'm going to go order." Dylan mumbled, eyes swiftly falling on Claire, giving her a hard look before turning on the heel of her Jimmy Choo flip flop clad feet and heading to the counter, Kemp and Chris trailing after her, punching each other and rating girls.

"So, Claire and I were just talking about who we thought was most likely to win this year's soccer championship." Claire scrunched her eyebrows together but like a 'true' Alpha, Layne was able to subtly give Claire a look that informed her to just go with it. Claire bit into her fruity treat, maybe if her mouth was full of crap she wouldn't have to speak any.

"Well it's obvious." Cam shot, eyes averted from playing Crazy Birds. "We're gonna win." He said matter-of-factly, like Hermia delivering that month's horoscope. The arrogance in his tone of voice and his careless stature showed obvious change on his part in the past years. Layne had once told Claire that it was too bad she wasn't dating him at the moment because his haughtiness was, as the word itself stated, hot.

"Fuck yeah!" Derrick howled, high-fiving Cam and then plopping back into his seat. "With me leading this team there's no way we're losing to _ADD._" He said it was such menace that Claire wanted to laugh.

"And our jerseys this year are freaking awesome too." Josh added, his lash lined eyes excited, Derrick groaned.

"God you are such a -"

"Scoot over." Dylan said, hands on her hips, Derrick obeyed silently, glaring at his ex for making him move and Claire stirred her yogurt. The table was getting less and less like a booth and more and more like a line for a Disney World ride.

"What are we talking about?" Dylan asked bossily.

"Us winning the soccer championship." Cam offered.

"Oh, I thought the game was next week." Dylan tilted her head as if she were thinking.

"It is, but we're still going to win." Derrick bent over to say, his eyes met Claire's for a second and he winked at her as if they shared some sort of secret- her pits had never felt more itchy.

"You're so full of yourself." Claire joked, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Dylan scoffed and Claire shot her a look which Dylan deflected. Claire may have stayed sweet but she had picked up a few tricks on bitchy-ness over the years. "I'm going to go to the bathroom." Claire said, she couldn't breath and Dylan was making her more angry than she had obviously intended. Cam, Kemp and Chris slid out from the booth to let Claire by, she hadn't meant for so much trouble for her to just go wash her hands.

* * *

**THE WESTCHESTER**  
**THE FOOD COURT RESTROOM**  
_February 12th_  
_12:01 PM_

Massie had forgotten the number one rule for shopping at The Westchester, long lines. Just to get into a stall itself had taken around fifteen minutes away from Massie's wardrobe revamp session and the line at The Sunglass Hut had cost her another twenty just to get service to open the lock on the new D&G sunglasses, she didn't even want to remember the mess at Saks.

The gray tiled walls and floors of The Westchester looked like how they always had, with the tall mirrors and adjoined sinks- it was about the only thing in all of Westchester that hadn't changed in the past three years. The only current sound in the bathroom was the droplets of water from the sink (hopefully) hitting the white sink and of Massie's foot tapping on the floor as she dried her hands under one of the many dryers. She heard the door swing open just as her phone rang, Ke$ha's new hit blasted from her iPhone and Massie's hand couldn't have flown fast enough into her Chanel purse to grab it.

"Hullo?" She asked, placing one finger on her other ear so that the person on the other line wouldn't have to know she was in the bathroom via the sound of the dryer.

"Massie?" Massie's insides leaped for joy, just from hearing the voice on the other end of the line- the deep, masculine, British voice on the other end of the line.

"James? Ehmagawsh, you have no idea how-" Massie stopped herself, a true Alpha never, ever showed weakness, especially not to her long-distance boyfriend.

"Massie?" He asked again, "you there?"

"Yeah," Massie replied.

"What were you saying?" It was simply ah-dorable that James actually wanted to hear what she had to say rather than talk over her (like a certain shorts obsessed boy), whine about his ex (ahem, Zac Efron wannabe much?), or say the exact same thing as her (hello wo_man_).

"I was just saying how great it was to be back home." Massie smiled as if James could actually see her and walked over to the mirror to re-gloss. A girl walked up next to Massie to wash her hands and bumped into her hard, causing Massie's Smasbox wand to go flying into the sink beside her and a smear of nude lipgloss to appear beside Massie's upper lip. "Ehmagawd!" Massie wiped the sticky line from her tanned skin and then hung up, she'd call James back at a more appropriate time, this was an emergency.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl said, picking up the wand with the tips of her thumb and index finger like it had rabies.

"Whatever, you can keep it." Massie walked over to the towel dispenser and then back to the sink, wetting tlhe edge of the paper towel and removing the smudge of gloss from her flawless face.

"I'm really sorry!" They girl said again and Massie eyed her through the mirror, her light blonde hair and her big eyes screamed innocence but her low racer back (A+O?) tank and jeggings (D&G?) called out fashionista.

"I heard you the first time." Massie muttered, gawd were girls in Westchester always this ah-noying? She hoisted her purse on her shoulder, lifted her nose up and pushed past the girl who's eyes were following her out the door as her YSL, cheetah print pumps smashed against the gray floor. The lipgloss smudge was _ahv_-iously a sign from Gawd that Massie should return to shopping, nawt hanging out in public restrooms.

* * *

**THE WESTCHESTER**  
**SAKS FIFTH AVENUE**  
_February 12th_  
_12:33 PM _

"Liv!" Alicia whined as Olivia fell for what felt like the fifth time that morning. "Don't buy those heels if you can't walk in them." Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her Miu Miu clad foot, sighing, and handing Olivia a perfectly manicured hand to help her up off the carpeted floor.

"But they're cute!" Olivia whined in response. Alicia tilted her head and brought a finger to her lip as Olivia wobbled.

"True, buy it." Alicia smiled and pulled out a wad of stickers from her bag, bending down to place a light blue, LUCKY magazine, 'yes' sticker on the pink and black Jimmy Choo heels with the gold toe front. Olivia clapped and the two girls giggled until Olivia toppled over once again, Alicia cracked up. "Come awn, I still need to buy a dress for the party next weekend." She turned on her heel, leaving her friend to fend for herself as she scoured the rest of the store in search of something glamorous, yet not too gaudy, to wear to Derrick's house party. She wanted something that screamed 'hawt!' but still implied sophisticated, because just like Perez, Alicia would be blogging and taking notes all night. After all, gossip didn't spread itself.

Her eyes came within sight of a beautiful silk lilac tunic, wrapped with a pretty, lavender, rope belt. Her eyes lit up like fireworks as she strode over to the rack, her hands grabbing at the blouse. With a satisfied smile Alicia held it up to herself in front of a mirror, she frowned when realizing it would show a little more than needed cleavage.

"That's adorable." A girl at the rack next to her muttered, Alicia nodded her head, eyes still glued to her reflection.

"It shows a little_ too_ much though." She responded, her forehead creasing.

"Hm, you have a point. There's nothing a little lace can't do. You should use white and then pair the outfit with some black jeggings and gold drop earrings. Lavender lace would work too." Alicia smiled and turned towards the mystery girl to thank her. Though she was already sashaying off towards a rack of white Grecian dresses, her (YSL?) pumps hitting the floor in precision (not Duh-livia like at all), her dark wash (True Religion?) skinny jeans showed off her chopstick legs, a simple (Barney's?) dark purple tee, and (Prada?) blazer topped it off with her chestnut hair glinting in the light.

_Not bad_, Alicia thought.

* * *

**THE WESTCHESTER**  
**PINKBERRY**  
_February 12th_  
_12:36 PM_

Dylan mixed her tart yogurt again and again with her pink spoon, slapping the white froth a couple times. Her emerald green eyes would look up every few minutes to stare at Claire trying and failing at subtly flirting with Derrick. Gawd, Claire was such a pain in the ass. Massie should have stuck with her instinct and not have let the would be traitor into their tight knit group. The moment Massie had packed up, Claire had joined forces with Layne, who with her LBR status had immediately taken over as Alpha. That LBR Queen had turned into Bitchy Marie Antoinette in a matter of moments, like Caddy 2.0 in Mean Girls. Her family's new boost in society definitely helped with it too. Plus Claire dumped Cam's hawt times ten ass in just four months of Massie's departure, the same time Dylan and Derrick had mutually agreed to end things. Ahv-iously, the starved 'innocent angel' had sped after Derrick, her Ked covered feet following his Nikes at every corner.

Not to mention she ditched their summer in paradise (aka summer in England with Massie) the first year due to a 'family emergency'. Last time Dylan checked a trip to Hawaii with the new Queen Bee wasn't exactly an emergency. Besides picking Hawaii over England was like Brad dumping Jen for Angelina, it maybe hot but there's definitely not enough class. Dylan's heart plummeted, they'd all stopped going on those trips after the first one, even Len Rivera had contracts with loopholes.

"Dylan?" Kemp said, waving his hand in front of her face, his eyebrows scrunched together. Dylan ignored him and continued to stare aimlessly. "Dylan Marvil!" He said louder, both hands now waving in front of her face, people began to turn their heads in her direction.

"Marvil!" Derrick hooted, and Dylan looked up, people all around Pinkberry were staring at her, giggling and whispering, Dylan turned red from anger at the two idiots.

"What?" She said in a low voice, her Crest White teeth gritted.

"I wanted to know if you were gonna finish that." Kemp stated, and a few girls were getting up from their chairs to approach her. Dylan got up to go, pushing her melted fro-yo at Kemp's ass-like face, her flip-flops slapping against the tarred rocks on the floor, trying to keep calm as people stopped her at the door to sign napkins, papers, phones, anything and everything. Soon the manager was asking for a picture from her to put up on the wall and Dylan wanted to scream in frustration. Like a true actress she held her head high, signed as much as she could without her arms falling off, smiled until her face burnt and then calmly walked out from Pinkberry, her eyes narrowed at the table with her 'friends' who were staring at her with wide, confused eyes.

Dylan took a deep breath and walked as fast as she could, bending her head so no one could see her red, Marvil branded curls. She hit hard into another girl, the impact causing them both to stumble.

"Shit, I'm _so _sorry." The girl was sitting on the floor, rubbing her wrist.

"Whatever, at least I didn't have lipgloss in my hand this time." She said, crinkling her nose, she like Dylan had a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose and tons of shopping bags lining her wrists like Juicy charm bracelets.

"Uh, okay." Dylan replied, throwing the girl a messily signed napkin and walking out through Bloomingdales.

* * *

**THE WESTCHESTER**  
**PARKING LOT A, GROUND FLOOR**  
_February 12th_  
_12:43 PM_

"We're totally going to whoop those bitches' butts tomorrow." Andrea said, talking animatedly to Kristen, her light green eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Definitely." Kristen said, rubbing her bare arms, the sun was out but it was acting like a useless lab partner just sitting around and looking pretty, not really doing it's job. "I heard they _barely _won their last game too." She added through chattering teeth. Andrea pushed her auburn hair away from her face and nodded.

"Yeah it was like one to zero, and there were tons of yellow cards." She responded, they walked in silence for a little bit and Kristen punched Andrea's shoulder lightly when a red buggy drove by.

"PUNCH BUGGY!" She shouted. Andrea spotted another green one and Kristen ran as she chased after her, looking back to make sure that Mrs. Kleft wasn't still around to yell at the two teenagers.

Kristen ran past a girl with lots of bags and looked back again to check for the blue Toyota.

"Ehmagawd! There's an effing car." The girl shouted, Kristen stopped in her tracks before a stretch limo slid up, she panted, not from being tired but from the near death experience. She bent down, placing a hand on her knee and the other on her pounding heart, waiting for Andrea who was speeding up to the black streak of a car.

"Thanks," Kristen said through huffs of breath, the girl nodded, not looking up at Kristen as she slid onto one of the limo's tan leather seats.

"Cute top by the way." Kristen looked down at her Lanvin for H&M top, glowing at the compliment from the mystery girl with the cheetah print pumps. She shouldn't have listened to the Soccer Sisters, she should have bought more clothes from that line rather than buying that new pair of Puma cleats. She put her hands on her hips as she and Andrea _walked_ to the slidding glass doors of Bloomingdales. Today she'd have to insist on heading over to H&M, after all, her mom always said that strangers never lied.

* * *

title: nevershoutnever, jane doe.

_uneventful much ? (: kinda. i made massie run into all of them, but she didn't recognize them...or did she ? anyways party in a few chapters at the harrington estate ! woohoo. school in the next one or maybe the one after that. & like promised i updated in a week ! also the title was changed to prada & prejudice & i changed my pen name to kissinginparis so don't be alarmed (: continue writing what couples you want !_

_-alyssa_


	4. blahblahblah

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**JUNIOR&SOPHOMORE PARKING LOT**  
_7:47 AM_  
_February 14th_

Normally, Massie despised going to school. The idea of sitting in a room with nineteen other students doing _exactly_ what teachers wanted wasn't something Massie had learnt to appreciate. The chilling air hung around Massie like a Cavalli poncho. As she got out of her limo and waved goodbye to the now grizzled Isaac, Massie closed her eyes and pretended that she was walking onto the familiar Mexican tiled concrete of KISS. The flashing of the sun behind her Urban Decay dusted eyelids was a constant reminder that she was back in Westchester _nawt _acting like a Queen in London with a well bred posse with ah-mazing accents, not to mention James by her side. Massie sighed and an eruption of cold air appeared before her.

She slipped out her Chanel compact mirror and looked at herself, angling her face to the left side, gawd she hated herself for being so beautiful. Her moment of self appreciation was cut short by a speeding black Lamborghini that almost cut_ her_ short.

"SHIT!" The blonde driver yelled from the open topped vehicle while honking repeatedly.

The screeching of expensive tires on the asphalt broke through Massie's 'keep calm and carry on' mode that had been established from hours of listening to her mother's self help CD's, yoga, and meditation. The blonde jackass's black haired passenger was silently chuckling while the tanned brunette in the middle backseat laughed loudly. Massie raised a perfectly manicured hand and lifted one single finger before sharply turning her head and letting her Manolo Blahnik Esseamo pumps guide her to the prim front lawn of WTH. Those neanderthals were probably driving illegally with permits anyway. A round of 'ohs' resounded from the black luxury car, but Massie had other _important _things on her mind, like where exactly the Rivera Library was located.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH  
****RIVERA LIBRARY, WEST WING  
**_8:20 AM  
__February 14th_

"I awn-estly don't understand why he hasn't called me yet." Olivia pouted, twisting a lock of Rapunzel hair.

"Did you try talking to him?" Alicia muttered, her eyes trailing over her copy of Wuthering Heights, glancing up to make sure the librarian wasn't within earshot so that she wouldn't kick them out, _again_.

"Yeah but like Cam and I just went out yesterday, he should have called by now." Alicia set her book down.

"Cam? I thought you were going out with Danny?" She whisper hissed, her friend's ditziness when it came to boys was sometimes a little hard to keep track of.

"Well I was, but then I made out with Cam. I mean he's _so_ hot!" Olivia giggled and picked up her Blackberry Storm to check it for a text from Cam. Alicia sighed and looked up at the front of the library, she had forty-five more minutes of study hall with Liv and then French. Her ring covered fingers rippled through the worn pages of her book before she decided to return it to it's shelf, she had read it at least five times since September. The sound of her Jeffery Campbell LITA boots were muffled by the rich red carpet that her mother had personally picked out.

"Ex-cah-use me? How do I check in for study hall?" A girl asked Mrs. Collins, Alicia rolled her eyes and set her book down, bending over to see who the idiot with the valley girl accent was. Alicia saw a head of long light brown hair, she'd seen that hair before, and since when was there a new student in her study hall? She walked up to the desk and stood behind the girl who was almost the same height as her.

"You just check in with me at eight o'clock. Which by the way was twenty minutes ago." Mrs. Collins replied icily, Alicia suppressed a giggle.

"Yeah because being on time to study hall is _so_ important." The girl shot back sarcastically, picking up a Starbucks cup off the counter and pushing past Alicia, a glint of amber sent her way.

That wasn't- it couldn't be..._hell no_. Alicia tip-toed behind the mystery girl, following her up the steps to the second floor, holding onto the rich, oak banister so as to keep her balance. It had to be her, the long hair, the impeccable style. It definitely was the girl from Saks, and Alicia had to personally thank her for her help.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
** MAIN BUILDING**  
_ 10:15 AM_  
_ February 14th_

If the idea of Valentine's Day didn't sicken Kristen enough then the sight of all the stuffed animals, couples giving each other dental exams, and the stench of chocolate definitely did. Boys in Westchester should have been given an award for going all out on Valentine's Day, maybe the more whoreish and stuck up your boyfriend, the better the gift. Kristen licked her lips and spun the dial of her locker, the taste of worn out Victoria's Secret lip balm tingling in her mouth.

"Hey sexy lady." Kemp Hurley said, slapping Kristen on the lower back while reaching above her to open his locker, that boy was such a whore, his girlfriend of the day was truly lucky.

"Kemp? You remember WTH's code of conduct, don't you?" Kristen asked with faux kindness as she scrunched her way out from standing under his tall frame, pulling her thick binder with her, purposely letting it smack into his hard stomach; he didn't even seem to notice. He was like an ugly permanent scar, as much as you tried to do away with him or cover him up with BareMinerals, he never disappeared.

"Not really, I was too busy catching Z's in the back with Chris. Care to enlighten me?" He asked, wagging his eyebrows while he searched for something within his cluttered locker. Wads of paper fell to the floor and pens without caps and dog-eared notebooks stuck out, Kristen scowled.

"Of course you were," Kristen said bitterly under her breath. "Well then, I'd love to inform you about the _hands off_ policy." She said, her long, butter blonde hair whacking against his side, she could hear him chuckling and then whistling as he walked away, winking at couple random girls. He was the definition of _sick._

"Yo, Kristen!" Dempsey Solomon called, Kristen's heart fluttered a little bit, yeah she'd ended their relationship last year, but that didn't mean she still didn't have feelings for him. He had that whole rugged, jungle, muscle-y look that reminded her of one of Len Rivera's male magazine covers.

"Yeah?" She asked hopefully, it felt like her chest was going to explode at any minute, like Derrick's beaker in Chem. Kristen tugged at the bottom of her Wildfox Couture love potion t-shirt and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tilting her head just a little so that her waves cascaded the right way- she'd picked up a few things in middle school from Massie.

"You know for AP Euro, we only had to type up that essay on what we already know about Henry the eighth right?" Kristen bit her bottom lip and nodded, trying and failing at not being disappointed. Even Derrick's beakers had more gusto when they fizzed out, nothing like the lame PopRock worthy fizzle in her heart.

"Cool, thanks." He nodded his head and walked off in the direction Kemp had gone, most likely to hang out with the rest of the Circe de Idiot soccer team leaving Kristen alone in the crowded hall waiting for break to be over.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**STARBUCKS KIOSK**  
_12:17 PM_  
_February 14th_

After hours of begging, fake crying, yelling and outright screeching at the top of her lungs Dylan had lost the ability to stay awake. Her mother had forced her to return back to school after being off on independent study and quite honestly she didn't want to go.

"Hi," giggle, "You're Dylan Marvil right?" giggle, "I'm Caris-"

"I don't really care." Dylan said, cutting off the girl and setting down a crisp twenty while trying to not be totally PO-ed by the creepy students staring at her.

"Here's your latte." One of the Starbucks workers said, the elderly woman gave Dylan a smile she didn't return while she swiped the drink off the glass counter. Her eyes lingered on the red velvet whoopies for a few minutes before she finally tore her gaze away. Dylan took a seat at one of the circular tables and pulled out that month's Vogue while she flipped through the pages with little or no enthusiasm. Lunch was not proving to be exciting, all day long girls had been trying to be her friend while guys tried to hit on her thinking that her fame would rub off on them, lunch had been the peak of it.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" A girl asked in a way that didn't exactly sound like she was asking. Dylan shook her head and continued to look through Vogue until the reached the end. She put her alabaster cheek on her hand and sipped from the green Starbucks straw. Someone should have taken a picture of her looking like Audrey Hepburn minus the funeral dress. Her emerald eyes gazed down at her iPhone which was currently laying on the silk of her Prada bag, Cam promised to text when he and the other guys got out from the Dean's office for throwing food at Freshmen. "I like your top." Dylan made some sort of noise that sounded a lot better in her head. "But you know, it would look a hell of a lot better if it wasn't tucked in."

"Ehmagawd, can you na-" Dylan stopped as soon as she saw the girl's face, she looked amused and her eyebrows were raised above a pair of amber doe eyes.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE BAR**  
_12:31 PM _  
_February 14th_

Claire nibbled at her Lancôme coated bottom lip and shifted nervously in her seat. Layne was stabbing her salad while Griffin Hastings droned on and on and _on_ about punk music (as if someone actually cared). Valentine's Day was supposed to be stress free for girls, at least that's what her mom liked to say, but Claire felt like she was going to topple over because of a stress educed attack. She flattened her shirt every time Griffin opened his mouth (which was several times) and then ran a hand through her hair every time he said AC/DC (at least fifty times).

"Griffin, can you get me some uh, juice please?" Layne asked, turning to Griffin, he blinked.

"You have juice right there." He pointed out, Claire stifled a laugh.

"Yes, Griffin, but I don't like the flavor." Layne's kind act was cheaper than a pair of booties from Ross during their 75% off sales.

"Aight," Griffin kicked his chair back and got up, sauntering off to do Layne's bidding, banging fists with every boy who walked by.

"It's a good thing he's hot." Layne muttered from the side of her mouth, Claire laughed. Maybe it was the laughing or the thick awkward times a hundred atmosphere, but it felt like something _big_ had happened. The plaguelike throngs of high schoolers were all whispering and giggling and every sophomore, freshman and even some juniors were fixing up their outfits like Ashton Kutcher was going to walk in at any minute with Chace Crawford on his arm. Most of the seniors and their lucky asses were already at home, but the few left were looking perturbed and confused.

"What's going on?" Claire asked, it was weird to not have people staring at her and Layne at lunch like they were prized Picasso's donated by the Hurley's to keep their son out of getting expelled.

"Do I look like God?" Layne questioned placing one perfectly shea buttered leg over the other and rummaging through her BCBG cross body bag. "Where is Griffin? I sent him downstairs not to China." On most days Claire would open her mouth and inform her friend that he'd just left and couldn't magically learn to transport himself, but something more important turned up; the doors opened.

Screw Ashton and Chace, standing in the doorway was Dylan Marvil, after three semesters out of school she'd returned looking better than Heidi Montag on the first episode of The Hills, and faker than her boobs. Yes, Claire saw her outside of school on occassion, but being back at school? That meant Dylan's glares could torment her even in her sanctuary. Standing next to Dylan though, was the bigger threat- bigger as in the size of an effing blimp with the letters T-H-R-E-A-T on it. A girl with long shining chestnut hair, a glittering smile and two piercing amber eyes- piercing as in the women at Icing with those metal pinchers- and she looked better than ever.

Craning her neck to get a better look, Claire leaned behind Layne, which led her to be blocked by Griffin's tall frame, Claire leaned back in her seat and like Agatha Christie's ten little Indians, she fell down. Like gun on metal the sound of Claire Lyons falling echoed through the cafeteria, the only other sounds after that was of Alicia Rivera snapping a picture on her iPhone and Olivia Ryan cackling. Massie Block's glossed smirk just added to the embarrassment.

* * *

title: ke$ha

_so this chapter didn't exactly turn out how i planned it to & not written half as well. oh & sorry i posted it late. i changed the title (yet again) because of an insightful review that told me there was a horrid story with the same name (prada&prejudice). i also got a review about massie saying 'ehmagawd' which i know is totally immature, i didn't originally plan on her talking like that but since my writing style is _nothing _like lisi's i thought that would really be the only way to have my story be even remotely like a real clique book- plus i can still see massie talking in a valley girl accent at the age of fifty (: on another note, for the choice of couples, i _hate_ clairington the reason i'm using it ? it works for my story line. continue saying what couples you want ! i haven't thought of an endgame so if you want clairington it's still possible. _

_-alyssa. _

_oh & to_ dreams of everyone_ thanks for your help ! & awkwardly enough i've always thought that layne & dune would make a good couple & i honestly thought that lisi was going to make them get together or something. glad there's someone else who thinks so ! :D_


	5. hotanddangerous

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE BAR**  
_12:32 PM_  
_February 14th_

Claire practically choked on her food as she slowly hoisted herself back into her seat. She tried to follow the breathing instructions her yoga guru had taught her. _Two breaths in, one breath out._ Her shaky breaths were the only thing muffling the sound of snickers, chuckles and full out cackles. Claire Lyons had just fallen, and she tried her best not to think about the symbolic meaning of that.

"Are you okay?" Layne asked quietly, picking at her wrap, the tortilla flakes falling to the side of her plate.

"Great." Claire mumbled, pushing her medium length hair away from her face and adjusted herself in her seat. She stared down at her curved, glass tray and traced the edges with her Tiffany fork. She tried her best to ignore the sounds of whispering and laughing, she prepared herself to ignore the sound of screeching that she was sure would ensue if people were to greet Massie. Claire's cornflower blue eyes looked up, no one had budged the least bit, most eyes were still on her as if they were asking her silently what to do next.

"You can all look away now!" Layne said, throwing her hands in the air, Taio Cruz would have approved greatly of her gesture. The cafeteria stayed slightly silent and finally after three beats of awkward, people returned to their conversations (most likely gossiping about why Massie had returned).

"God, it's like these girls have never seen a British wannabe before. All they have to do is listen to Nicki Minaj's accent in Super Bass." Layne reclined in her chair and then held up her phone and started texting furiously. Claire had no idea how it was that Layne could just relax like she was sitting on a beach in the Bahamas, did she not understand the threat Massie brought to their social lives? Not to mention Claire's love life.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE ABANDONED RESTROOM, FOURTH FLOOR**  
_1:15 PM_  
_February 14th_

Alicia huffed as she climbed the third set of steps. She was dragging herself along, thanks to the railing, and her feet were killing her, there was a reason that the fourth floor was rarely used, but for some reason she had received a slip to see the Dean of Arts. She rolled her shoulders back and fluffed her hair as her eyes fell upon the steps leading to the fourth floor. She passed a guy dressed like K Fed with facial hair that looked like briar patches, but that was the only person she had passed her whole trip.

Missing fifth period French 3 Honors wasn't either great or a pain, but the anticipation of wanting to know what the Dean had to say was driving her insane. When she reached the fourth floor she heard nothing, all the classrooms were empty and only the lights of the Deans' offices were on. She turned to head down an abandoned hall before hearing the sound of muffled clacking on the tiles - the sound of slingbacks most definitely.

"Hello?" Alicia called, she peeked into the nearest office and found it, just like the rest of the floor, empty. She followed the sound of footsteps until she saw a golden ponytail swinging back and forth. A tall blonde girl was well ahead of Alicia and she made a sharp turn heading down another hall. The girl kept peering into different rooms as if she too were looking for where to go. Alicia hurried to keep up with her but when she turned at the end of the hall, the girl had disappeared. "What the eff." Alicia grumbled.

She was not Courtney Cox and this was absolutely _nawt_ Scream. Alicia stood taller and walked down the rest of the way like a model on a runway. That was until she passed the girls' restroom and a well manicured hand reached out and grabbed her upper arm. Alicia yelled at the top of her lungs but a moisturized palm covered her mouth. She didn't know what scared her more, the idea of practically being kidnapped or the thought that the oil from whoever the person was's hand was now on her face, possibly causing the uprise of pimples or acne.

"Gawd, can you shut up?" Alicia was released from the death grip and opened her eyes, which she hadn't even realized she had had closed. She was in a posh restroom that smelt of Lavender and Jasmine along with the smell of her perfume as well as three other's that she knew _way_ too well. A GHD hair straightener was plugged into the wall, while Laure Mercrier foundation, concealer and bronzer were lined up on the counter in four different colors. NARS blush and Too Faced eyeshadows were stacked neatly and brushes of various sizes stood in a holder, a curler was wound up beside them and a pencil holder was currently occupied by Bobbi Brown eyeliners and Clinique mascaras.

"Uhm, last time I checked the Dean of Arts was nawt a five foot four tall teenager - he was balding." Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and stared into Massie Block's amber eyes. Dylan Marvil was perched carelessly on a granite sink countertop, a hand secured around the wrist of Kristen Gregory like a Juicy charm bracelet, making sure that she would not budge.

"I have Calculus and I cannot afford to miss another lesson!" Kristen whined, yanking her arm from Dylan's grip. "Whatever it is that you have planned I'm sure it will work without me." Kristen placed a hand on the door and had a foot out before Massie finally spoke.

"Hear me out first Kris, I'm sure it will help you in one way or another. Besides you have English this period, I sent the slip _re-mem-ber_? Plus, from what I've heard you can buy yourself through at least another hundred lessons of Calc if you wanted." The side of Kristen's face turned a shade of dark pink (Urban Decay's Cactus might as well have spread itself across her face) and she sighed, letting the door swing shut. Alicia leaned against the cold wall. Whatever it was that Massie had to say must have been more interesting than writing conjugation help booklets for French one students. Alicia raised her brown brows telling Massie to continue.

"Claire Lyons and Layne Abeley have been running amuck for three years straight." Was Massie's starting line and Alicia couldn't help but want to already belt out 'YES WE CAN!' Even Kristen seemed to already be hooked. "And you three have let them." Massie threw three dagger sharp stares at each girl, a twinge of disappointment in herself filled Alicia. "That though, is not the way things work around here. While chaos ensued, I was in England claiming my crown from British skanks. During my time in England I learnt that there is only one ruling family, the same as in Westchester. Except here," Massie took a long pause, the bathroom was completely silent, not even a peep from the faucet, "there is only one reigning Clique and we my friends, are _it_."

Another long pause came after Massie finished, she looked to each girl as if she were taking her time to read their expressions or look over what she had missed in all those years. When Alicia had chased after Massie that morning, not fully knowing who it was she was searching for, Massie had just smiled and waved, Alicia had stood stock still (realizing who it was) while Massie giggled to herself and walked away.

"Great pep talk but I'm done with that clique stuff, Layne and Claire are the popular ones now. People like them because they can- well used to be- able to relate to them. We are all spoilt girls with blessed looks. The cheapest item in our wardrobes are at least a hundred dollars and we only wear outfits one time. There are very few girls who actually live like we do at our school. The girls here may be rich and all but they aren't brand whores and Layne and Claire reflect the average Westchester girl. They shop at places like H&M, they actually talk to everyone else, and they don't mind wearing clothes without brands." Kristen's words were exasperated and Alicia frowned in response, why was Kristen suddenly being such a freaking pessimist? "Let me put this into words that you three can understand. We're like last year's cover of Vogue, they're what's in now. We're out of season."

"Haven't you heard Kristen? Recycling is in." Massie stated frankly, Alicia beamed and looked to her blonde friend who seemed to be suppressing a smile. A moment later all four of them were hugging.

* * *

title: we r who we r, ke$ha.  
_uhh, so i know i said i'd update ever monday or sunday & i also know that i have not kept that promise- which i am terribly sorry about. i had several versions of this chapter written out but i didn't know what i wanted this chapter to be about. i know where i want the story to go but i don't want it to move too fast. i might re-write this chapter because i'm slightly unsatisfied with it. massie will, for sure, meet the boys in the next chapter & the bathroom & massie's and kristen's meeting will be explained too. if you have any suggestions on what i should include or what i should do next, feel free to tell me ! (: at this point every bit of help counts ! oh plus i know this chapter probably has a lot of mistakes which i will fix later (=_

_-alyssa._

_p.s. to dreams of evermore: you did not sound nosy at all (: i thought her ehmagawds were immature too but like i said, that was the only part of massie that i knew i could keep true to lisi's style. & thanks :D  
to everyone else: THANKS FOR REVIEWING (; i heart you, ahahaha. _

_review ? (;_


	6. herecomesthesun

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**NORTH WING, GIRL'S RESTROOM, GROUND FLOOR**  
_12:42 PM_  
_February 15th_

Thanks to the previous day's events Claire felt more like a loser than her character in Dial L. She was hiding out in the restrooms with her GHD mini straightener plugged into the wall. The only way she was leaving was if she looked flawless.

"Claire? I know you're in here hun." Layne's voice echoed and bounced across the walls of the tiled bathroom. Claire sighed, blowing a wisp of blonde away from her face. She tilted her head, maybe she should go red like Blake Lively, that way no one would recognize her. "Ugh, Claire you can't hide out in here." Layne's reflection mimicked a picture of her with her hands on her hips, bangles clattering. "I know what happened yesterday was bad, but if you don't remember we've ruled this school before and nothing changes now that Massie's here." Claire crinkled her eyebrows. Did Layne seriously think that status was the problem?

"Yeah well if you don't remember we both were also fashion and social pariahs as well." Layne rolled her blue eyes and walked up to the mirror.

"I'm taking you to the cafeteria, _today, _whether you like it or not." She leaned forward and pulled out a Tokidoki lipgloss wand which she lathered on her lips. Claire winced, she wanted to let Layne know her Hello Bombshell bra was peeking out but she was sure that's just what Layne wanted. Layne pulled back and then looked at Claire, pulled out her plug and wrapped her arm around Claire's tanned wrist. Claire gulped.

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE BAR**  
_12:47 PM_  
_February 15th_

Massie swung her legs back and forth, she loved the stools and the circular tables at The Bar already, it was like high school in first class. Dylan sipped a mango smoothie next to her holding up her flaming red bangs while the tons of high school students looked up at them, just like Massie wanted.

"NYLON says that redheads might be back in thanks to Blake." Dylan said, looking to Massie, Massie leaned over and peered at the article.

"Redheads have always been in Dyl, thanks to the Marvils." Dylan beamed back in response, picking at the edges of the sandwich beside her, Massie masked her utter confusion. Even after the previous day's encounter, the girls were still doing their own thing. Kristen was off in one of the campus's many libraries, Alicia was with Faux-Livia in the dance room, Dylan was here not eating and Claire was off being a bitch.

Massie tapped a chopstick against the marble thinking about what exactly she'd be doing if she was in England - oh yeah,_ sleeping_. Massie frowned a little bit and tugged at her Marc by Marc Jacobs peacoat, it hadn't even been a week and she already missed James and the comfort of England, there no one ever questioned her authority.

"Ech, I can't believe Justin Bieber is dating Selena Gomez, its like a match made at nap time." Dylan was now flipping through _Okay!_ and occasionally sipping her fruit smoothie, it was as if she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was on the front cover of the magazine she was currently reading and the two before it. Massie sighed and propped her elbow on the table and fired off a text to James.

**MASSIE:** **Hola, how's England without me? Grayer than usual? Westchester's great but I miss you :(**

Maybe coming home was a mistake.

* * *

** WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**SCIENCE LIBRARY**  
_February 15th_  
_12:41 PM_

Kristen leaned against one of the tall dusty bookshelves, her Juicy Couture hoodie practically acting like a duster. She always had a liking for WTH's science library. It wasn't because she preferred the no-nonsense subject over the others, it was just one of the few places on campus that hadn't been built buy the muddied hands of the Rivera family. She didn't _hate_ Alicia, Alicia had tried to save whatever was left of the Pretty Committee, but the fact that after nothing worked out Alicia just abandoned the girls and now acted like she didn't know them was made Kristen annoyed. She also needed time to carefully analyze what exactly had happened the day before in the third story restroom.

Kristen sighed, shut her book, causing an eruption of snow like dust from the golden pages, and set it back on the shelf. Of course not before spotting one single blue eye through the slit where her book belonged.

"AH!" Kristen screamed before a hand shot out and covered her mouth. She had had enough of people sneaking on her, sooner or later she would have to invest in a tazer. She bit at the arm over her mouth and squirmed, grabbing the hand and prying it off of her.

"Jeez, calm down it's just me." Kemp Hurley said, jogging around the shelf, trying not to laugh. "Fuck you can bite." He said waving his arm around in a spastic way. Kristen took a deep breath and then put the book down gently.

"_What_. _Do_. _You_. _Want_?" She asked through gritted CrestWhite teeth. At the moment she could have been the poster child for teeth grinding medication.

"I heard you hung out in here _so_, I came to find you." He smiled charmingly and Kristen rolled her eyes, he was such a two-faced liar. He pushed his mop of curly hair away from his face and rocked back and forth on his Nikes, his eyes never leaving Kristen's face and his smile never wavering - he_ ahv-iously_ wanted something.

"Tell me the truth." She said bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest and squaring her shoulders.

"I need to copy your math homework, I forgot to do it." He said with absolutely no shame. It was times like this that Kristen had the urge to slap him, he'd appear as if he had just apparated, ask for her homework and then disappear and show up again only when he needed her help. She looked to her OPI coated nails and then to him, slowly contemplating what her next move should be.

"This is the last time." Kristen said, sighing before walking over to the table she was situated at.

"Thank you!" Kemp said walking up behind her and pulling her into an unwanted, fake, annoying hug. She pushed him off of her and looked to the spectators at the nearby table who had their mouth's hanging open, their eyes averted from their calculators and science textbooks.

"Do that one more time and I'll never help you again." He nodded slowly and sat down, copying down her hardwork. Kristen glared at him and pulled out her lunch, biting at her wheat layered sandwich, maybe if she hung out with Massie Kemp would stop pestering her.

_Maybe._

* * *

**WESTCHESTER THAMES HIGH**  
**THE HALLWAY**  
_February 15th_  
_12:41 PM_

The tick of the second hand on Ms. Frick's clock sounded like a single Prada heel smashing on Italian tile repeatedly. Add to that the eyes of twenty other kids and you would be Massie Block in fourth period. She felt like belting one of her two liner comebacks, something along the lines of "Are you Wendy?" and then if receiving the appropriate response, proceeding to say "then why do you look like you've just met Casper for the first time?"

The bell rang just in time for Massie to pick up her books and be the first one out the door of the classroom, looking down at her cell phone in hopes of a distraction. Her iPhone read three messages, no voicemails, and only one missed call - from her mother of all people. Massie resisted the urge to sigh and dropped her phone back into her Chanel bag, making her way to her locker. Of course her parents had stayed back in London to shut everything down and couldn't deal with Massie missing a few weeks of the new semester. They knew sabotage better than Blair Waldorf and they hadn't even intended it.

"Watch where you're going freshie!" Someone said after brushing against Massie. Massie turned her head and glared daggers at two boys, her eyes in Voldemort style slits, her slender arms itching to land on her hips. She pursed her glossed lips and raised her eyebrows.

"Uhm ex-cah-use me, but I am nawt a Freshman. Besides, you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of_ you_." Massie shot, words laced like fishnet, with ice. The two boys looked at each other, cocked their brows, smirked and then turned to Massie. She stared at them, knitting her brows together. She'd think they were twins by their facial expressions, besides the hair (one happened to be blonde, the other had black hair) and eye color-

"The correct quote ends with it making an ass out of both of us." Goldilocks said, girls in the halls were giggling at him but Massie didn't give two shits.

"Woah D, hold up, isn't this the roadblock from this morning?" Massie blinked, D? The blonder of the pair surveyed Massie. His eyes trailed over her D&G snakeskin gladiators, to her skinny, dark wash, True Religion jeans, up past her A+O white wife beater and purple Marc by Marc Jacobs peacoat. He stared at her and his caramel brows knitted together like her grandmother's crotchet scarves.

"Fuck yeah, god woman don't you know what a crosswalk is?" The black haired one cracked a smile at his friend's joke and Massie stared, amber freezing.

"Derrick? Cam?" Her voice reached octaves unknown to man, higher than Rachel in Glee or that chick in High School Musical. The two boys exchanged looks again, this time they didn't smirk they just made perturbed faces before turning back to her. Goldi-_Derrick_, stepped forward and squinted, Cam followed suit.

"Shit man, it's Massie!" Derrick said, slapping Cam with the back of his hand, Cam made another face then mumbled a 'don't see it'. Then Derrick started laughing. His blonde hair fell into his eyes and he towered over Massie by at least four inches.

"We almost ran you over!" Massie glared (ah-gain) and Derrick continued to laugh, Cam ended up joining in. Massie had no idea what was so funny about almost killing her. If she died then there was sure to be an even bigger uproar than Alexander McQueen and both idiots would be sued big time.

"Damn, I'm going to have to start calling you _road_ Block, get it?" Derrick practically coughed up over his laughs. Cam laughed harder at Derrick's lame joke and Massie stood there completely agitated by their behavior.

"Should I call 911? You two look like you're having freaking heart attacks. It's nawt even that funny." Massie crossed her bracelet clad arms over her chest and tapped her foot, Derrick and Cam straightened up and wiped their eyes, ah-viously Derrick hadn't taken Massie's going away advice ('get more mature, then you'll actually be able to have relationships after the seventh grade') and Cam hadn't followed through with her tip about getting single colored contacts so that he wouldn't look like such a freak of nature.

"Westchester sure missed it's bitch." Derrick said, slapping Massie on the back.

"And I missed my idiots." Massie retorted with a glossed smirk. She was silently glad that they hadn't taken her words of wisdom, at least some things had stayed the same.

* * *

**MANHATTAN, NEW YORK**  
**HAIR HABIT**  
_February 15th_  
_4:15 PM_

"Lay-_nuh_!" Claire whined, she tugged at her friend's Wildfox Couture, Drama Queen top. She looked down to adjust her own Wildfox Couture top that was covering a pair of Sevens that was wrapped by a pair of Topshop gladiators, though at the current moment her outfit was covered by a bright pink hairdressing tunic.

"Yes Claire?" Layne asked, turning her head in Claire's direction, a copy of the newest NYLON open in her lap. Claire always thought that Layne's constant obsession with magazines was a sign that she knew absolutely nothing about real fashion and everything about generic style.

"Are you sure this is going to work? I mean changing our hair won't make us more 'alpha'." Claire bit her bottom lip and looked from right to left. Marc, Claire's hairstylist had gone to retrieve his 'special' scissors.

"Alpha? Seriously Claire, we're much too old to speak Massie." Layne rolled her eyes and patted down the tinfoil in her hair, from what Claire could tell, Layne was going all out on lowlights- like a girl who'd just broken up with her boyfriend might have done with a tub of Ben&Jerry's.

"You didn't answer my question." Claire huffed, staring at her long waves in the mirror in front of her.

"Does it need an answer? I was sure about it two minutes earlier when you asked me for the fiftieth time." Claire sighed, she ran a hand through her hair, what if something went wrong? Last time she'd trusted Layne to make her hair decisions, it had resulted in choppy bangs and a need for every hat under ten dollars in sight.

"Honey! Sorry to keep you waiting, you know how it is." Claire smiled, even though she had no idea what the freak it was that Marc was talking about.

"So where shall we start? Just a trim right?" Claire shook her head vigorously, her waves sparkling and dancing in the rich lighting and the sun streaming in from the bustling world outside.

"No," Layne cut in, her voice changing to that intimidating yet sweet voice that she'd learnt to master. "Claire's going for layers, thinning, and a cut, just below the shoulders though, _not_ at them." Claire widened her eyes and turned to Layne, below the shoulder? What the hell was Layne smoking?

"It's-"

"Fabulous!" Marc threw his hands up and immediately got to work on zipping through Claire's once beautiful tresses. When he was done he handed her a mirror to show her the progress, and just like the three bears ended up saying to Goldilocks, Claire said goodbye to her own golden locks.

* * *

**THE RIVERA ESTATE**  
**ALICIA'S ROOM**  
_February 15th_  
_4:21 PM_

"According to Vogue, long hair is back in." Olivia declared loudly. The sound of Olivia's voice echoed throughout Alicia's room and bounced against the tall white ceiling.

"It was never out." Alicia stated, looking up from her laptop screen. Her Tiffany&Co prescribed glasses were glinting with the image of a website open on her screen and her fingers were snapping at her MacBook keys in hunger. Alicia's hair was thrown up in a messy bun and her red silk pajama shorts and white D&G camisole were carelessly crinkled.

"Do you think I should get lowlights?" Olivia asked, her floaty voice reminding Alicia of the sleep she was now deprived of. Alicia shut her laptop and stared at Olivia blankly.

"Olivia, leave your hair as it is. Now, go downstairs and practice tap." Alicia smothered her command in cheap kindness which was quickly bought by her best friend (who knew better than to question anything she said). Olivia nodded, grabbed her fringed Prada bag and walked out of Alicia's spacious room, lightly shutting the door on her way out. Alicia took a deep breath of fresh air, the smell of Pinesol and the jasmine flowers that grew messily outside her window, filling her nostrils and calming her in a therapeutic way.

Eyeing her website and gossip blog, she read and reread her draft. The title? GOD SAVE MCQUEEN, THE QUEEN IS BACK TO TAKE THE CROWN. Alicia clicked publish with a satisfied sigh. When her phone buzzed with a text from Hermia, Alicia gladly deleted it, her bestie was waiting for her downstairs and she had a routine to prepare.

* * *

title: here comes the sun, the beatles.

_yah, so that was uhm weird. sorry if it didn't seem like it all flowed together, basically i had several drafts for a chapter and then i just put them all together. not sure if you guys are huge fans of the random ways massie is meeting everyone, let me know if there's something you'd want me to change because i'm kind of (kind of) thinking that i might re-write this story, but i'm not sure yet._ _also, sorry i haven't kept to my thing about updating every tuesday, finals & the end of the year got to me, but i got out last thursday soooo, i'm available to write my heart out. (;_ _i do have summer school though, but let's just ignore that._

_review ? (:_


End file.
